


Loose Lips Get You Fucked

by sinoftheday (itsthedetails)



Series: Loose Lips [1]
Category: Veronica Mars RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-25
Updated: 2007-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsthedetails/pseuds/sinoftheday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris gives another interview.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loose Lips Get You Fucked

_Christ, why do I even open my mouth? “Yeah, well if things don’t work out for Piz and Veronica, I certainly wouldn’t mind_ Logan _and Piz getting together.” I’ve decided. I’m never giving interviews again. It’s like I open my freaking mouth and my brain goes on vacation._

Chris violently closes the webpage he has open on the screen of his laptop, poking at the touchpad like it’ll make the whole damn interview disappear from cyberspace.

He looks up when he hears a deep, rich laughter floating through the open trailer door. He sees Jason and Ryan knocking into each other as the walk from the set. Jason’s eyes light up when Ryan tells some half-ass joke and he nearly doubles over in laughter. Chris wants to go out and join them just to enjoy the pull of Jason’s infectious laughter, but he doesn’t want to intrude.

He watches them a moment longer until Ryan glances down at his watch and turns to head toward the parking lot. He and Jason just finished their scene for the day and Kristen and Percy are filming theirs now. He glances quickly at today’s schedule hanging just inside the door of the trailer. He’s got his scene with Kristen to film and then they’ve blocked off the rest of the day for Jason and Kristen to film a big Logan/Veronica scene.

While lost in thought, Chris doesn’t notice Jason has entered the trailer until Jason is right next to him. Jolted from his thoughts, he finds Jason’s brown eyes meeting his own with his sweet shy smile. Jason gestures to the Playstation set up in the trailer they use as a lounge. “You want to play?”

There’s a game on pause, flashing on the screen. Chris’ eyes drift over, almost confused as to what Jason’s referring to. “Uh, sure.”

Jason hands Chris a controller and hits a button to start the game up. They play in silence, the only sounds filling the trailer is the music coming from the video game and the frantic clicking of buttons.

 _Maybe he hasn’t seen it. Maybe no one told him. Jason’s not really the type of guy to read shit on the internet. Hell, he doesn’t even know half the shit said about him, let alone some interview I’ve given. Yeah, that’s it, just play it cool. He’ll never know._

Jason’s player has taken out Chris’ man and he jumps from the couch, arms overhead in celebration. “Score! Dude, we’re you even trying? I totally destroyed you, man!”

Chris barely registers Jason’s words because his brain went on another one of those convenient vacations when Jason’s shirt slid up, reveling just a scant inch of skin between the hem of his t-shirt and waistband on his jeans.

 _Oh. OH. That’s Logan’s shirt and Logan’s jeans. God, I'm like the freaking fangirls, one sighting of hipbone and I'm a goner._

He shakes his head a bit, clearing the cobwebs. “Uh, what? I’m a little off my game. Rematch?”

Jason cocks his head down at him, and then collapses back to the couch, sprawling his legs out, taking up half the couch. “Sure.”

The game starts up again and Chris makes a conscious effort to focus on hitting the right combinations on his controller. He’s definitely _not_ watching Jason out of the corner of his eye, deep in concentration with his tongue peeking out of the corner of his pursed lips. And he is most _definitely_ not imagining what that tongue feels like on his skin.

 _Jesus Christ on a bicycle! This is your_ co-star. _Your very_ straight _co-star. Stop it! Game—think about the game._

Chris forces his attention back to the screen and viciously pounds the keys of his controller. Eyes still trained on the television screen, Jason asks, “So, you did some interview?”

Chris’ whole body goes taut, fingers momentarily frozen on the controller.

 _Fuck! He knows. Man, this is why he wanted to hang with me. Me and my big fucking mouth._

He casually glances at Jason out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, no big deal, just for some television blog.”

He continues his game, but is on edge, cautious of what Jason might ask him next. The silence stretches between them and finally he just can’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry man! Sometimes I open my mouth and things just fall out. I—I didn’t really mean it. It’s no big deal.” The controller has slid from his hands during his outburst, the game going on while his player just flickers and bounces on the screen.

He finally looks up at Jason, waiting for some type of response. He finds Jason staring at him with those intense brown eyes…total confusion splayed across his face. “Dude, what are you talking about?”

 _Fuuuuuuuuck! Again! Goddamnit, why can’t I just keep my mouth shut. I need a freaking clamp._

He brushes his floppy bangs from his forehead. “Uh, nothing. I’m just—you know playing around. I didn’t mean anything.”

Jason’s still staring at him, and it feels like he’s going to bore a hole right through Chris with that damn concentrated stare. He stands, pacing in the small room, unable to withstand Jason _looking_ at him like that.

 _Fix it! How can I fix this? This is so bad. That’s it, I’m buying Krazy Glue and gluing my mouth shut._

Chris nearly jumps out of his skin when he turns to pace back to the left, and finds Jason right behind him. Jason quirks his head, looking at him in that concerned way he has and asks, “Are you alright, man?”

A strangled noise escapes Chris’ throat.

 _That was not a squeak. I’m dignified and manly and that was_ not _a squeak._

He takes a step back, putting a little space between Jason and himself. “Yup, fine, totally fine.”

Jason steps forward, mirroring Chris’ backward motion.

 _Oh my God, I can smell him. I can smell his cologne...stop it! Stop thinking about Jason Dohring’s cologne, right the fuck now!_

“Are you sure? Cause, dude, you’re like flippin’ out here.”

 _Of course I’m flippin’ out. He’s right there. I can see the freckles on the bridge of his nose. I’m staring, fuck! Stop staring!_

Chris steps back again, and Jason matches the movement, except now Chris’ got nowhere to go. His back is pressed to the wall and Jason is so close, Chris is thinking about his freckles again. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, “I’m fi…uh.”

Chris finds himself, suddenly, yet forcibly, shoved against the wall. Jason is kissing him, he just leaned down and _kissed_ him.

 _What the hell just happened? Oh my god, we’re kissing! I am kissing Jason Dohring! I. AM. KISSING. JASON!_

Jason’s lips are warm and soft against his, and it’s official. Chris’ brain has left the building, and his body has taken the drivers seat and started to kiss back. He and Jason are pressed tight together, their mouths moving and tasting. Chris feels like he stuck his finger in an electrical socket, because his whole body is sparking. Abruptly, it stops and Jason’s warmth is gone.

Chris opens his eyes, the very picture of confusion, and before he can ask what the hell is going on, Jason is whispering, warm breath brushing across his cheek, “You looked like you could use a little help calming down.”

Chris leans in again and the warmth is back, except this time, Jason snakes his tongue into Chris’s mouth. He swirls his tongue in Chris’ mouth, dipping gently into the inner most recesses.

 _He tastes like…cherry, like artificial cherry-flavored Chapstick._

Jason relinquishes Chris’ mouth and trails kisses over his jaw and down his neck, nipping roughly. His hands are griping Chris’ hips, fingers alternately clenching and releasing.

 _I’ve lost my mind. I’ve fallen and hit my head and I’m imagining all of this. I’m having a mental break because there is no way I’m standing here in the middle of a trailer_ on set _kissing Jason. There is no way his body is pressed to mine and I’m definitely not feeling his dick pressed against my thigh._

A high-pitched keening sound releases from Chris. He can feel Jason smile against his neck and Jason thrusts against him again. Involuntarily, Chris’ own hips jerk forward, riding the thigh shoved between his legs. Jason bites down on his collarbone before slowly sinking to his knees.

Chris watches in awe as Jason pulls at the button of Chris’ jeans and the sound of his zipper coming undone echoes through the small, cramped room. As the soft cotton of his boxers is pushed down around his knees, cool air reaches his cock, and Chris clenches his eyes shut, head dropping back against the wall.

 _No way. No fucking way! This is not happening. Jason is_ not _going to suck my dick._

Except he _is_ , and suddenly Chris feels warm wet heat encase his cock and the repetitive thumping sound filling the room is coming from where Chris is banging his own head back against the wall.

Jason’s hands are pinning Chris’ hips to the wall. There’s not much by way of technique, but Chris could care less. Jason bobs down and swirls his tongue around the bundle of nerves just under the ridge before mouthing the head. Chris’ cock slips from Jason’s mouth with a wet pop and Chris’ head falls forward so he can see what Jason’s doing now.

He finds eyes, black as night, staring up at him; the lust that is swirling around the two is so powerful it’s practically visible. Chris has seen that look before he’s seen it on set, he’s seen it on screen. It’s pure _Logan_. Damn, it’s like Jason slipped into character and Logan is looking up at him through hooded eyes.

“Want to fuck you.”

 _Forget a massive head injury, I’ve had a stroke and_ died. _…Well, on the upside, at least I went to heaven._

Chris can’t form words—he can barely breathe—so he just nods his head. His knees collapse out from under him, and he slides down the wall. Jason shuffles back to give Chris room to turn around. Chris’ legs get caught in the jeans, which are tangled around his calves. He falls forward, hands flailing out to catch himself. His breath is coming in pants, and when he peeks over his shoulder to look for Jason, a strangle groan wrenches out of him. Jason’s got his cock out. He’s stroking long and unhurriedly, thumbing at the slit.

 _Fuck, if I’m not dead already this is going to kill me._

Jason shifts forward, insinuating himself between Chris’ spread thighs. Jason lays his chest across Chris’ back, his lips near his ear, and whispers, “wanted to do this since you first opened your mouth about having a crush on Logan.”

Jason’s fumbling with something on a nearby table. Chris’ head hangs between his shoulders, his whole body shaking in anticipation.

 _I’m gonna wake tomorrow and this will all have been a dream, but I don’t fucking care. It’s too good to stop now. Fuck, I hope it never stops._

Jason’s back, right behind him, the soft hair of his thighs rubbing rough against the backs of Chris’. Jason’s found one of the many bottles of moisturizer Kristen is constantly leaving all over the set, and Chris can’t do anything but concentrate on breathing and even that escapes him when he feels cool slickness touch his opening.

The tip of Jason’s finger gently circles the tight ring of muscle, massaging just enough to work it in up to the first knuckle. He’s being careful and timid—just like Jason is with everything he does—exploring first, testing what works and what doesn’t. He’s got two fingers inside Chris now and he’s still examining, pushing his fingers in further, twisting them and then pulling them all the way out.

 _God, he’s teasing me. He’s goddamn fucking_ teasing _me and I love it._

Chris’ breathing is ragged and his elbows shake under his weight. He’s never begged in his entire life. Until right now, when his voice sounds broken and raw, “Please.”

The feeling of fullness disappears and Chris misses it until he feels the blunt head of Jason’s cock pressing into him. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, he’s full and it _hurts._ A grating breath swooshes out of him and he tries to relax.

Jason stills behind him, and the gentle man Chris knows is rubbing at his back. “Hey…you okay?”

He takes another breath and nods his head. “God, please don’t stop.”

Jason pushes forward; achingly slow, until there’s no more to go. He waits a moment, giving Chris time to adjust, and then just as slowly, he starts to move. His pace grows from long leisurely strokes to fierce thrusts and Chris is bucking back against him eagerly. Jason groans passionately, long and deep, and bites the back of Chris’s neck in a nipping kiss.

 _Oh man. Jason is fucking me. He’s goddamn fucking me! And making that noise. He’s making that noise. I’m gonna die, but what a way to go!_

Chris is lost in the pleasure coursing through his entire body, and nearly jumps from his skin when he feels Jason’s hand snake around to circle his cock. Jason grips him firmly, stroking in time with their furious rocking. They’re both moaning like there isn’t an entire crew just outside this trailer. Chris feels like he’s going to literally come apart at the seams and then his whole body is clenching and quaking, and he can feel Jason stiffen behind him. Jason comes inside him, and that knowledge alone is nearly enough to make Chris black out.

Jason pulls back enough to release Chris, and Chris’ arms give way as he collapses to the floor. He feels Jason settle behind him again. They’re both panting like they’ve just ran a marathon and Chris is sure he’s never going to be able to move again.

Jason shifts from behind him and looks deep into Chris’ eyes. Huskily, Jason tells him, “Next time you want to fuck me, you don’t gotta tell every interviewer on the planet, dude, just tell _me._ ”


End file.
